


Ankle Biter

by friendlyneighborhoodirondad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, A lot of cursing, Gen, He'll kick anyone's ass, He'll kick his own ass, Protective Peter Parker, baby Stark - Freeform, ft. older brother Peter, he'll kick your ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 22:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodirondad/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodirondad
Summary: Peter protects the streets of Queens as Spider-Man at night. At any other time, Peter is willing to do anything to protect his family.This is another 5+1 fic lol





	Ankle Biter

~%~ May ~%~

Peter stiffens when he hears the whistle from the other side of the street. He tries to ignore them and keep on walking beside May, but they don't give up.

"Woo wee, ain't you a pretty thing?"

"Hey, sweet thing, where ya headin' on an evenin' like this?"

"You look a little lonely, want some company?"

Peter growls and twists to give the men a piece of his mind, but May grabs onto his shoulder to keep him moving forward. "Leave it, Peter," she says. It's sad that this isn't the first time she's said it. And that doesn't sit right with Peter.

"But, May... They're just so..."

"I know, darling. But acknowledging them just makes it worse."

"Not if I give what for, it won't."

"Petey-"

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" comes the impatient call from across the street.

May sighs and pulls Peter along. "Don't engage."

"Hey, hey, hey, where ya goin'? I'm talking to you, pretty lady."

Peter senses their disgusting presence getting closer. That's when he puts his foot down. He stops suddenly in his tracks, causing May to stumble a bit. Peter spins on his heel and gives the two men chasing after them a sharp glare.

"Oh, you're a baby mama, huh? We can work that."

"Fuck off," Peter spits, shaking May's hand off his shoulder.

"Quite a mouth on this one, eh?" one says to the other.

"Yeah, imagine the mouth on the mama," the other laughs.

"Seriously, back off you fucking creeps. If you don't turn around and leave my aunt alone in 2 seconds, I'll-"

"You'll what? You'll hurt us? We'd like to see you try." They laugh, only further fueling Peter's rage.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks softly, eyes dark.

"Peter. Come. _Now._ "

When May uses that tone, he knows there's no disobeying her. So Peter sends one more look their way before turning and walking to May's side.

"That's right, run to mama," one snickers, causing Peter to blush. Ugh, he hates this.

May must see the look on his face, because she flips around and catches both of their eyes with one furious glance. They both sober immediately, eyes widening and mouths snapping shut. "Don't. Ever. Talk to my nephew like that again. Do you understand?"

Their accosters frantically nod and take a step back.

"Good." May turns back to Peter and puts an arm around his shoulders, leading him away.

They're silent for half a minute before May pipes up. "I'm grateful you stood up for me. That was very brave of you."

Peter shrugs bashfully. "It's nothing. Just doing my job."

"Your job, huh?" she teases, squeezing him a little tighter.

"Yeah," he laughs. "To protect you."

"Aw, so sweet. How'd I end up with a boy like you?"

"You want the long or the short version?"

May laughs and ruffles his hair.

Comfortable silence for another block. Then, "May?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm intimidating?"

"Of course you are. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that... those guys didn't seem to think so."

"Those guys were a couple of losers. Don't give them anymore thought. They're not worth your brilliant brain's power," May says firmly, leaving no room for argument. "I'll always be grateful I have my personal attack dog with me."

"I wouldn't say attack dog..." Peter says. "Maybe a collie or a lab. But certainly not a Shepard."

"I don't know, I always saw you of more of a husky. They're goofy and loyal and absolutely lovable."

"The way those guys were acting, I would probably be a chihuahua or something."

May's giggles turn to guffaws. It takes a while for her to get her breathing back under control enough for her to say, "Well then, I'll always love my little ankle biter."

~%~ MJ ~%~

"Hey, losers."

Peter and Ned nod their greeting to the team captain.

"Hello?" she tries again.

Ned waves a hand vaguely in her direction.

"What're you two doing?"

Peter frantically waves her off.

"Are you two... having a staring contest?"

"Maybe..." Peter concedes.

"Ugh, you guys are such nerds."

"And you're not? You're literally the captain of the Academic Decathlon."

MJ leans forward and blows air into the pair's eyes. Peter and Ned shout and blink rapidly to re-wet their eyes. "MJ?! Why'd you do that?" Peter groans.

"Yeah, what the hell? I was about to win!" Ned adds.

MJ rolls her eyes. "Like I said before. You guys are losers."

"Wow, a loser calling you a loser? That's gotta hurt," Flash laughs, rolling up with his arms crossed.

"Ugh, leave us alone," Ned says. "Aren't you supposed to be in detention for parking in Principal Morita's space?"

"Yeah, but messing with you, Penis, and the girl is a lot more fun."

"You don't even know her name? She's literally the captain."

"Just ignore him," Peter sighs.

"Yeah, he's just trying to make us feel bad so he can get off to his little power trip in the bathroom later," MJ says matter-of-factly. Peter and Ned try and fail to cover their snickers.

"Shut up, Frizzy."

Something dark curls deep in Peter's gut at Flash's jab. Nobody picks on MJ. Even if she picks on them. Mercilessly. Unfeeling. Even cruel at times. But nobody picks on MJ.

"Hey, back off," Peter says, frowning what he hopes is an intimidating frown.

"Oh, Parker's grown a spine, huh?"

"Yeah, so don't mess with my friends."

Flash shakes his hand like he's shaking out the pain. "Damn, Penis coming alive with those burns. All I've gotta do to is poke fun at your girlfriend, and I get you all riled up."

"She's not my girlfriend," Peter grits out.

"Yeah, you're right. Not even Penis would want to date her."

Peter pushes back from the table to stand chest to chest with the bully. "Leave. Her. Alone. Dickhead."

"Oh, so scary. What are you gonna do?" Flash scoffs. "You gonna beat me up, Penis? Huh? You gonna hit me? _Please_ hit me, Parker. I really want an excuse to hit you back."

"Peter, it's not worth it," Ned warns, eyes darting between the two.

"Yeah, Peter. Listen to your boyfriend and sit this one out. It'll be good for you in the long run," Flash taunts.

MJ sighs and cups her hands around her mouth. "Mr. Harrington? Flash is sticking his hand down his pants."

"Wh-What?! I-I'm not-"

"And now he's trying to pull out his-"

"HEY!" Flash interrupts again, his face beet red. "She's lying, Mr. Harrington!"

Their teacher just gives the four of them an exasperated look. "Flash just... You've already gotten reprimanded for indecent exposure on school grounds before."

"Th-That- I didn't- It was an accident!" he exclaims, taking several steps back from Peter.

Mr. Harrington just shakes his head. "Fine, just keep your clothes on."

Flash gives the trio one last glare before stalking away. MJ's already got her nose a book (where did that come from?) by the time Peter turns back to the table with a grin. "Nice going, MJ," he breathes, taking his seat. "I was this close to actually punching him."

"No, you weren't," MJ says, not looking up.

"No, I wasn't," Peter mumbles. It's not his fault he could actually kill someone if he wasn't watching his strength. People would have questions if Flash flew across the room.

The rest of practice continues without a hitch, and Peter can honestly say he actually learned a thing or two. MJ makes a great team captain. On his way out, MJ pulls him off to the side and simply says, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For sticking up for me."

"Oh, that? It's nothing," Peter says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't like when people pick on my friends."

MJ's eyes light up for quick second before shifting back to their indifferent state. She shrugs it off and turns to exit. "Whatever, loser."

~%~ Pepper ~%~

Peter fidgeting nervously in his seat, tugging at his bow tie. He looks around the lavish banquet hall for the hundredth time. This was the last place he had expected to be on a Friday night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, so he quickly pulls it out to give himself a brief reprieve from the stifling atmosphere of business small talk and fancy cocktails.

Fe Man: Thanks for taking my spot, kid  
Fe Man: Pep hates going to these things alone  
Fe Man: She'll actually probably like going with you better than with me  
Fe Man: I'm alot to handle

Me: its not a prob mr stark  
Me: ur sick

Fe Man: I still feel bad springing this on you last minute

Me: its really not a prob  
Me: im having fun  
Me: plus i get to network  
Me: my teachers say thats inportatn

Fe Man: That's the spirit kid  
Fe Man: I'll see you two when you get home

Me: NO  
Me: GO TO SLEEP

Fe Man: I don't take orders from kids who don't follow my orders

Me: JASKDF;AKD  
Me: i hate you  
Me: go to sleep

"Who're you talking to?"

Peter jumps and twists only to find Pepper taking her seat next to him again. She smiles as he places a hand over his chest. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," Peter says. "I was just texting Mr. Stark."

"What's he want?"

"He was just checking in. Now I'm trying to get him to sleep, but he's just devolved to childish retorts."

Peter shows Pepper his messaging app where Mr. Stark's sent him things like "you're not the boss of me" and "come home and make me". Pepper laughs at her fiance's antics. "He's such a child sometimes."

"More like all the time," Peter says, sending his mentor an emoji sticking its tongue out. He quickly receives a middle finger emoji back.

"I know. It seems like you're the one mentoring him sometimes."

Peter laughs, but their conversation is cut short by a woman with a headset and clipboard. "Ms. Potts, it's time."

"Alright, you'll be okay by yourself?" she asks, standing from the chair she just sat down in.

"Yes, Pepper," Peter answers semi-honestly.

"Okay, I'll see you when this is over."

Aaaaaand... now he's alone. Peter goes back to fidgeting and tugging at his bow tie. A couple minutes later, a voice floats over the crowd asking people to take their seats. And all of a sudden, Peter's table is filled with other rich looking people in fancy clothes. Nobody pays him any mind other than some cursory curious looks when they sit down. Peter happily busies himself with checking the @spider-man4real4real Twitter and Instagram. He only created the accounts about a month ago, and they already have as many followers as the majority of the Avengers' accounts. Barring Mr. Stark's, of course.

The house lights dim, and Peter looks up at the stage with the rest of the crowd. A lady in a floor length gown walks on stage to announce Pepper for her big speech. Mr. Stark said that she had been working on it for weeks. She wanted to get it just right so the wealthy benefactors in attendance would donate to the Stark Relief Foundation. Peter tries to mentally transmit his well wishes to her from where he sits, but unfortunately the radioactive spider wasn't telepathic.

Peter's ears pick up some murmuring at the other side of the table while Pepper is speaking. At first he's just annoyed that someone would have the gall to talk when Pepper was giving a speech. But when he hears what they're saying, Peter gets mad.

"...a load of crap," one whispers. "As if Stark cares about those caught up in his battles."

"Yeah, and now he's got his pretty little red head in on it."

"Like she could contribute anything. She's just some floozy that got lucky one night, and now Stark's put a ring on the bitch."

Scratch that. Peter's not mad. He's livid. He'd dive across the table right now if Pepper wasn't speaking. He'll have to wait until she's done.

When the applause swells and dies down, the house lights come up. A few minutes later, Peter sees Pepper making her way towards the table, stopping to talk with a few guests. Sweet talking the money out of their wallets, he supposes. She finally comes to a stop at her seat next to Peter, announcing, "I'm starving."

Peter's still upset with the sleazeballs across the table, but he keeps the glaring to a minimum while they eat. Unfortunately, they don't make it through the meal without incident. One of the assholes strikes up a conversation with Pepper about Stark Industries' development timeline for the coming fiscal year. They smile and act like they didn't say those horrible things about the CEO of one of the world's largest tech conglomerates. Peter stews, his anger rising by the second. The anger finally spills over, and he interrupts the one who called Pepper a bitch mid-sentence.

"Liar."

Pepper turns and looks down at Peter. "What was that honey?"

"You fucking liar."

The whole table freezes and stares. Pepper's eyes are the size of saucers.

"...Excuse me?" the guy asks after a few long moments of silence.

"You heard me."

"Peter..." Pepper starts with nowhere to go.

"You don't want these scumbag's money, Pepper. They're not worth your time."

"Where is all this coming from?" she asks, apparently finding her voice again.

"I heard what you said," Peter says ominously, turned back to face the men. "You're lucky I'm a forgiving man. If Mr. Stark were here, you'd already be dead."

"Peter!" Pepper exclaims as the men give him a nasty sneer. "You can't just-"

"I can when they're smiling at you now and calling you a floozy behind your back. I-It's not right."

Understanding crosses Pepper's face as the rest of the table looks rather scandalized. "Petey honey, I can take care of myself."

Peter glances over to the men, fury burning through him at their smug faces. "But they're-"

"I know. Believe me, I know. But this is not your battle. This is part of the job."

"Yeah, kid, leave this to the grown ups," interjects one of the sleazes.

Pepper stiffens and something in her eye changes. She gives Peter a quick reassuring smile before turning back to the men across the table, her smile adopting a bitter quality. "So, which one of you wants to explain to me how you could have possibly thought taunting Tony Stark's personal intern was a good idea?"

The two men pale and exchange a nervous look.

"Was it you with the Selleck mustache? Or you in your dad's suit? Because I'm sure Tony would love to hear about you going after his fiance and his beloved intern all in one night."

Neither of them know how to respond to Pepper's cold words. They cut mercilessly like a blade. Her winning smile is the cherry on top. Peter can't keep himself from smiling at the men that are clearly pissing themselves. Mr. Stark picked a good one.

~%~ Mr. Stark ~%~

"PARKER!"

Uh-oh.

"PETER BENJAMIN PARKER!"

Shit.

"YOU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!"

Shit, shit, shit.

"PETER-"

"I'm coming!"

"You have exactly five seconds!"

"Okay, jeeze, I'm moving!"

Peter darts out of his room and down the hall to the office where Mr. Stark was doing some business. But now... Peter has no idea what he did to set him off this time. Last time, Peter had left the blender within reach of Dum-E and thus had inadvertently caused the lab to be covered in unidentifiable goo. Peter had found it funny, but Mr. Stark had wanted his hide.

The teen cautiously pokes his head through the office doors to see Mr. Stark angry-reading something on his desktop. He knocks softly and says, "You called?"

Mr. Stark's glare flits to Peter's eyes. "What the hell is this?!"

Peter hesitantly makes his way over to the other side of the desk. He catches sight of a familiar Twitter account. Peter's personal Twitter account. Oh no.

"Oh, that's just... I don't even know what that... Where did you find that?"

"I was bored. This is you, right?"

"W-What? That's crazy ta-"

"Cut the bullshit. Is this you?"

Peter ducks his head, embarrassed. "Yes."

"'Tony Stark has more clout than you'll ever have'," his mentor reads. "'You're just jealous you can't wear colored shades as well as TS'. What the hell is this, Peter?"

"They were... saying mean things about you. I had to say something."

"Peter... people have been saying this shit about me since I was your age. This is nothing new."

"Well, that's even worse!" Peter exclaims. "They shouldn't be saying those things. They're making you out to be the bad guy. Th-They're so wrong, Mr. Stark!"

"Okay, okay, take a deep breath. And listen up, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once. This," he says, gesturing vaguely to the screen, "is not your job. You don't have to defend me against these people. Because believe it or not, I can handle it. I'm a literal superhero. And I've put up with this my whole life."

"But you shouldn't have to."

Mr. Stark sighs, face softening. "Thanks, Pete. I appreciate the sentiment and your fighting spirit, but this is just the way things are."

His mentor must know he's upset his protege, because he lets Peter hang out with him in his office, joking and shooting the shit. By the time Peter leaves, he has a smile on his face again.

His smile only falls when his head hits the pillow. His Twitter account has some upset antis hounding him. Ugh, he's too tired to argue, and Mr. Stark might yell at him for instigating fights again. Peter sets his alarm, sticks his phone under his pillow, and rolls over to sleep.

In the morning, Peter squints at the small screen, fumbling to turn the alarm off. He does a double take at his notification list. His hands shake as he opens the Twitter app. His follower count has jumped from 46 to 965k. In one night.

_What the fuck._

He skims through his feed, catching snippets like "@iamironman SNAPPED!", "lol don't mess with #TheStarkIntern", and "holy shit why didn't anyone tell me #TheStarkIntern so cute? @pbparker MARRY ME".

Unfortunately, Peter can't find the tweet that set all this off through the onslaught of notifications, so he goes right to the source.

"Hey, kid."

"What did you _do_?!"

"Ah, so you saw my little Twitter endorsement."

"Oh, that's what you did? I couldn't tell with all the FREAKING NOTIFICATIONS I HAVE!"

"Your account got quite the boost, huh?"

"Ya think?!"

"Youuuuu sound upset. Are you upset? Why are you upset?"

"I just... don't really need or want all this attention. What did you even say? I can't find it."

"I, uh... Before I say this, I'm forbidding you from calling me a hypocrite."

"Mr. Stark!"

"Okay, okay! I looked through your Twitter one more time before bed and saw a bunch of people giving you crap for giving them crap for giving me crap. So I killed them. Virtually."

Peter drops his head back with a scoff. "That's... insane. Why'd you do that?"

"Because... you're my little protector. I figured you could use some protecting yourself."

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a hypocrite."

_Dial tone._

~%~ Morgan ~%~

"Peda, ook!"

"Wow, Mo-Mo! Good job, your sand castle looks amazing."

"'ell me sumping I don know."

Peter laughs at Morgan's attempt at one of the snippy phrases Mr. Stark's been teaching her. "Alright, come on. Time to head back to the tower. Dad's gonna be worried if we're late."

Morgan's grin widens. "Daddy!" she squeals, holding her arms up so Peter picks her up.

"Hey!" yells another little voice from the other side of the park playground sand pit. "No girls in the sand!"

Peter turns once Morgan is secured in his arms. He finds that the squeaky voice is coming from a child that stands just above Peter's knee. He looks to be about 2 years older than Morgan. "Uh, sorry little guy," Peter says. "I don't think that's true. Anybody can play here."

"Nuh-uh. No girls."

"Why not?"

"Girls are stupid."

Morgan frowns, striking a wrong chord with big brother Peter. "That's not very nice. You should apologize."

"No, I don't! You're just the stupid babysitter. I don't gotta listen to you."

"Kid, listen-" Peter starts but is quickly interrupted.

"Doodyhead!" Morgan yells, giving the boy a rather nasty stink face.

"Mo-Mo, don't-"

"Don't call me a doodyhead!" the boy yells back.

"Peda nah supid. Peda smart."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh! You supid one!"

"Morgan!" Peter scolds. She doesn't seem to notice though.

"Supid, supid, doodyhead! Supid, supid, doodyhead!" she chants.

The boy looks angry enough to snap. Luckily he just stomps away with a dark rain cloud over his head. Peter sighs and turns to his little trouble maker. "That wasn't the best way to handle that situation, Mo-Mo. You could have hurt his feelings."

"Buh he call you supid. Daddy says dat you need someone 'ook out fer you."

"Morgie..." he sighs, slinging his backpack over his unoccupied shoulder.

"Petey..." she mimics, sounding eerily like her dad.

"Come on, you little stinker. We're 20 seconds behind schedule. We've gotta get a move on before Iron Man shows up, or worse-"

"Mommy!"

"Or Pepper's minivan," Peter sighs, watching Pepper wave at them from her hot rod red van.

~%~ 20 years later... ~%~

Peter shakes out his hands, breathing out shakily. He hates these things. Especially when he's gonna be interrogated for something he didn't mean to do. He curses his stress induced motor mouth. Why Tony gave him this position all those years ago, Peter will never know.

"Mr. Parker, you're on in two."

Peter nods and gives a fleeting smile. He's freaking out. Holy shit, he's freaking out.

Why did he ever think he could do this?

The man behind the camera counts down until the cameras roll. Peter swallows his nerves. Well, he tries to. There's too much to swallow.

"Welcome back to the 5 o'clock news hour. I'm Ezra Dipper. Please join me in welcoming Stark Industries' CEO and Head of R&D, Peter Parker."

Peter takes a breath then steps out under the hot stage lights. He flashes the camera smile Tony taught him and Morgan one lazy afternoon. He never thought he would have to use it so much. Nowadays, he feels like he uses it more than his regular smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Parker," the host says as Peter takes a seat. "How's business been treating you?"

"Uh, business is good, business is good," he says, already fiddling with his dress shirt sleeves. God, he's awful at this.

"A little too good, it seems," the host laughs, already moving in for the kill.

"Ha ha, yeah."

"Let's just cut to the chase and talk about the elephant in the room. It's been reported that you called one of your board members a, quote, 'blood sucking, bald headed vulture'. Is this true?"

Peter subtly straightens his posture. Tony always says to face your adversary with your head held high and your shoulders squared. He claims it was the only good advice his father had ever given him. Pepper had tried to teach Peter her shark smile but only Morgan mastered that.

"Yes, that's true," Peter confirms, trying not to shirk the host's gaze.

"Your stock took a dip. Some are worried that this is foretelling of trouble within the company."

"There's no trouble, really. I-It was all me."

"What prompted you to make such a... descriptive observation?"

The man's been pushing my buttons for years, he wants to say. The man's told me to my face that I will never live up to the Stark legacy, he wants to say. The man called my family a circus of freaks, he wants to _fucking_ say.

Any of those would be true.

But he can't.

"I had a moment of weakness," he says, running through his rehearsed speech. "I let my emotions get the best of me. I'm ashamed of how I acted, and I sincerely apologize to those I've offended."

"Well said, Mr. Parker. And not to detract from your statement, but are you at liberty to say what that moment of weakness was?"

Peter fights the urge to bite his lip, run a hand through his hair, shift in his seat. "Uh, not at this moment, no."

"Could you possibly disclose what it was in reference to?"

"N-No, sorry. I was just... having a rough day."

"Yes, I'm sure it must be tough keeping Stark Industries' head above the water in this economy. Other Fortune 500 companies have been turning to large scale layoffs."

"Stark Industries is doing everything they can to keep personnel," Peter quickly interjects. "It's very important to us that our workers and their families feel secure in their position with us. They are the heart and soul of our company. Without them, we are nothing."

"This has some personal roots, doesn't it?"

Ugh, he hates these type of questions.

"Uh, yeah. Growing up in Queens with my aunt after... everything that happened could be rough at times. We were living paycheck to paycheck at times, and my aunt was doing everything she could. I wouldn't want anyone to be forced to live like that. That's why Stark Industries has the highest minimum salary of any Fortune 500. I-I want to give back."

"Of course. Now, your appointment to CEO drew some criticism due to your humble origins. Many thought Stark was crazy to..."

Peter pretty much zones out for the rest of the interview. He's been through these criticisms a million times. It seems nobody trusts Peter with the company. Not even Peter trusts Peter.

On the drive home, Peter's sense of self worth steadily lowers. He's pretty much hit rock bottom as he pulls into the garage. He trudges up the steps and presses open the door leading into the mud room. A distracted smile touches his face as he dodges the kids' haphazardly strewn shoes. MJ's lectures must not have rubbed off on them yet. She's more lenient with them than she is with Peter.

The house is dark, which is weird because everyone should be home on a Saturday morning. He fumbles along the wall for the light switch before he remembers, "Karen, lights. And where is everyone?"

"They're in the dining room."

"Thanks, Kar-Bear."

"You're very welcome, Peter."

He makes his way to the dining room, running a tired hand over his face. He's deciding on whether it's worth faking a smile just to have MJ see right through it when the dining room lights flick on. Peter squints at the sight before him. "Wha...?"

"Surprise!" the group cheers, blinding him with their smiles.

Peter flinches back and blinks rapidly, trying to comprehend. "What are you guys doing here?" he finally settles on. His entire family (May, Ned, the Starks, MJ, and their eight kids with varying adoption status's) is crowded around the dining room table, a huge ice cream cake on the table in front of them.

"We're here for you, stupid," a fresh-out-of-college Morgan says like it's obvious. That little smart ass...

"I got that part. But why?"

"Because, you're our protector," Pepper says, holding his and MJ's newest little rascal, Koki.

"Our little ankle biter," May winks.

"Not to mention Spider-Man," Ned excitedly adds.

"So we thought it necessary to protect you against your biggest enemy," Tony says with his trademark faux-casual sniff.

"...Doctor Octopus?" Peter guesses.

"No, it's you, idiot," MJ says, catching the twins around the middle and wrangling them into their chairs. "You've been beating yourself up for weeks. And now with the news about you tearing that board member a new one-"

"You've been walking around like a fucking zombie," Morgan interjects.

"That is your daughter, Tony," Pepper mutters, covering Baby Koki's ears.

"Well, it's true!" she says, rolling her eyes.

"Look, Petey, you just need to take a step back," May says, stepping forward to put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're overwhelmed. We're here to act as your decompressors. We're your family. Now, bring it in, baby."

Peter dives into the hug. "I love you, May. I love you all, actually."

"We love you too, loser," MJ says fondly.

"Yeah, dude. You're the best," Ned smiles.

"You're the face of Stark Industries. You legally have to the best," Tony says, tickling Koki and making him squirm in Pepper's arms.

"Eh, I dunno," Morgan shrugs with a smirk. "I'd say he's just alright."

The tears come suddenly. Peter covers his eyes and turns his head to sniffle. "Oh god, look at me. I'm a mess."

"Emmy, why's Peter sad?" Ingrid asks, twisting so she's looking up at MJ while sitting in her favorite spot: MJ's lap.

"I'm not sad, sweetheart," Peter says. "I'm actually very, very happy. Happier than I've been in a long while."

"Yay, Peter!" Balraj cheers beside his foster brother Danny. Danny doesn't talk much, but he hand flaps to convey his excitement.

"Parker dog pile!" MJ calls, taking a step back with the rest of the adults.

All seven of the Parker clan between the ages of 3 to 15 scream and charge Peter. He squats down and opens his arms for his mish-mash of children. Scratch what he said before. This isn't the happiest he's been in a while. This is the happiest he's been _ever_.

Maybe his family is a circus. But he wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
